Drifting about for a couple of days

14th & 15th September

It was a fine morning yesterday, Autumnal with a hint of mist clearing to a bit of sun and a cool breeze. We were up and about betimes, but needed a pump out so had to wait until the Trading Post opened. Previously we'd have gone up to Marple and done it for ourselves, but we weren't sure of the state of the facilities there – the block had been reported closed a while back, and we'd heard nothing since.

In the event we had to wait quite a while. Of the two guys who run the TP, Kevin is away on holiday. Brian told us he was expecting some help, but it never materialised. Brian meanwhile had to induct the day's hirers of Comet, the day boat, as they were complete novices.

He eventually got round to seeing to us; we weren't in a hurry, in any event, as we only planned to go to the mooring beyond Bridge 8 we call Deer Farm Bend. Brian made a better effort than usual at rinsing the tank, but the fact remains that pouring water from a watering can down the Out pipe is no substitute for running water from a hose down the Rinse pipe. Coincidentally, Andrew Denny on Granny Buttons has just paid tribute to another pump out station that does attempt to do a proper job.

It's also irritating to be charged £15 for this less than spectacular service, especially as we don't use Elsan Blue, so they save a smidgen there into the bargain.

We finally got away at 10.15. Two things were noticeable as we went past the line of Long Term moorings. The first was how many of them are currently empty, a direct result of BW's barmy auction trial. In the old days, Luisa Bryceland as agent would have got on the phone to the folk at the top of her waiting list as soon as she knew she had a vacancy coming up, and it would be filled before the previous moorer had served his notice.

Now, there's a wait of at least five months whilst they put it up on the website, wait for bids, and finally do the deal with the successful bidder. I doubt, somehow, that they make enough in increased fees from the auction to compensate for the loss of nearly half a year's income.

The other thing that became all too apparent is that, since the engine was reassembled after replacing the drive plate, the tick over has increased by about 100 rpm, which is a lot in our terms. It meant that we fairly shot past the moored boats, and, to add insult to injury, the prop decided to sing loudly as we went.

There's not much we can do about BW's Department of Silly Ideas, but the other issue was tackled after lunch. I needed to do an oil change and stuff anyway, so took the opportunity to adjust the throttle cable at the same time. It meant going right to the end of the adjuster's thread, but it was nearly back at its previous revs by the time I'd finished.

A quiet evening followed, enlivened by the hoots of the local owl.

Today we had another lazy start. We knew that turning up early at Marple would be counter productive, and it's less than 30 minutes from Deer Farm Bend to the junction.

I spent the waiting time double checking what I'd done yesterday. I'm a purely self taught engineer, a Minor 1000 Traveller having featured prominently in my training, and I don't have the confidence to assume that the jobs I've done will be OK.

In this case, my unease about the level to which I'd topped up a battery cell proved justified, and removing a little electrolyte made me a happier man. All else seemed fine, and we pottered off to Marple. I'm pleased to say that the tick over is now much more the thing.

At Marple we followed a shop-coffee-shop-lunch sequence before coming back to High Lane ready to do a shell tow tomorrow.

It's been another peaceful afternoon, though just before sitting down to write this I realised that the anxious lad on the towpath had lost his football in the cut. Apparently his neighbour had kicked it out of the garden and it rolled down the bank above us into the water.

I tried heaving a long line at it for a bit, but such wind as there was, was blowing it into the offside reeds, so in the end we untied Sanity and shafted her across there. The ball promptly drifted away from us, but a bit of reverse on the engine brought it in reach of the boathook and it was recovered.

Good turn done for the day, we tied up again, Sheila went for a shower, and I sat down and wrote this.